


a little bet

by ndnickerson



Category: Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Established Relationship, F/M, Jealousy, Reunion Sex, Sharing a Bed, Woman on Top, fuck goblin, just a stupid bet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-03
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-14 09:40:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29168961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ndnickerson/pseuds/ndnickerson
Summary: Mick spots three easy marks walking into a European hotel. Ned spots an even easier mark.
Relationships: Nancy Drew/Ned Nickerson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 8





	a little bet

**Author's Note:**

> The stupid Passport to Romance trilogy begins with our intrepid trio running into Mick Devlin, thus kicking off the central romance of this terrible sequence. Nancy had wanted Ned to go to Europe with them, so in this story, well... he does.  
> Also, @mariss_ugh is 100% responsible for the payoff of the bet. That was her excellent suggestion. I just ran with it and use it at every opportunity.

Mick Devlin was just finishing his second gin and tonic when he heard them arrive.

Midafternoon on a weekday meant the bar was sparsely populated, and it opened to the hotel lobby, giving Mick a prime view of the new guests as they arrived. There hadn't been many, so far. A few couples were sharing bowls of pretzels and chatting at the small tables, and a guy Mick had made as a Yank was sitting a few stools down, but he was engrossed in his phone.

The trio was led by a tall girl with reddish-gold hair, and _girl_ was right. She had to be barely legal, still practically apple-cheeked and sweetly innocent. She was pretty, not overfussed on her appearance like the blonde behind her was, and those generous lips likely meant an infectious grin—but she was frowning as she turned to address something the brunette was saying. The three of them were hauling a _lot_ of luggage, and chattering away in American English.

Mick grinned and straightened his collar.

"I can't believe he couldn't make it."

"It sucks, Nan." The brunette gave the redhead a pat on the arm as they approached the clerk.

"Well, considering that guy we ran into at the airport..." the blonde drawled. "You might be able to find someone to take your mind off it for a few hours!"

"Mmm." Mick didn't even realize he was groaning in anticipation.

"I know, right?" the Yank said. "Gorgeous, huh."

Mick glanced over his shoulder, briefly; he didn't want to take his gaze off the marks. "You want the blonde? The redhead is mine."

The Yank snickered. "I'll make you a bet," he replied. "First one to get her to agree to a date wins."

"Hmm. And what does the loser have to do?" Mick turned to the Yank with a grin. "How cocky ya' feelin'?" Mick laid on his accent a little thick, flashing dimples. Oh, he'd win, but he wanted to make the Yank sweat it a bit.

"Very," the other man replied dryly. "And it sounds like you are, too."

The girls had just received their room keys a few minutes later when Mick slid up behind the redhead. He very nearly just draped his arm over her in a knowing, intimate gesture, but gave it a second thought. Maybe, as a tourist, she would have a joke of a guard up. Best to wait a few minutes. He was delighted to find that his room number meant he was staying across the hall from them—and that the redhead seemed to have her own room. Even better. "Americans?"

"Yes!" the blonde replied. She turned a winning grin on him. "How did you know?"

She looked barely legal, too. Mick returned her grin. Who knew? Maybe after a few bottles, he could talk them into something. "Just a feelin'," he replied, turning on the charm and the accent again. "If you're in need of a tour guide, might I offer my services?"

The redhead, when Mick risked a glance at her, looked frankly skeptical. "Of the local distilleries? You seem to be an enthusiast," she said.

Mick raised an eyebrow.

She gave her head a quick shake and smiled. "Sorry. Jet lag," she apologized. "I'm very tired. _We're_ very tired."

"Maybe after a nap, we could meet, and I could take you three lovely ladies for dinner? See some of the local sights?"

"Uh," the brunette murmured.

"Yes!" the blonde replied, at almost the same time.

The redhead glanced between the two of them, the corner of her lips turning up. "And airport guy is so quickly forgotten," she murmured to the blonde.

"Shh," the blonde said, from the side of her mouth.

The brunette glanced over at the bar. "Um, let's just see how we feel after that nap," she volunteered. "Maybe."

Mick glanced back at the bar, too. The Yank had a wide grin on his face, and Mick couldn't help feeling even more smug. If they were so cautious with _him_ , there was no way the other man wouldn't strike out.

"Sounds good," Mick said. "Two hours. And if you don't feel comfortable," he held his hands up, palms-out, hands-off. "No pressure. I'm sure we'll run into each other again."

The redhead nodded. "I'm sure. Nice to meet you."

Surely he saw a spark of interest in her eyes. Surely she would be back, maybe even alone.

"I'll count the minutes." Mick reached out to take her hand.

\--

Nancy Drew flinched back. She was already irritable from the long flight, from stewing over Ned's cancelling the trip, all of it. He was supposed to _be here_ , dammit, and now she had some Australian asshole trying to jump her practically as soon as she checked into her hotel. She was almost irritated enough to report him for harassment.

"We'll see," she replied without letting him touch her, and gestured for Bess and George to follow her. The Australian sauntered back toward the bar, doubtless to suck down some more gin, and Nancy rolled her eyes as she turned back toward the veritable mountain of luggage Bess had brought with her.

"Ugh," she muttered.

"Yeah. We should have at least talked him into helping lug _all_ this upstairs," George chimed in. "Bess, holy shit."

Nancy shook her head. "I'm sure that guy would have expected some... 'payment' for his help," she grumbled to George, who nodded.

"You ask me to pack for a Grand Tour and _this_ is surprising?" Bess tossed her hair. "You can't accept me at my most fabulous, well..."

Nancy and George laughed as they reached for the largest pieces. "I just wish Ned were here," Nancy murmured. "Not just to keep the skeevy pick-up artists away. I can't believe he cancelled three days before the trip. I was..."

"Very excited about being alone with him," George replied, when Nancy trailed off. "We know, Nan. Boy, do we know."

Nancy blushed faintly. A room to themselves, in Europe? Where her father _definitely_ couldn't walk in on them? Instant aphrodisiac.

"Need some help?"

Nancy's heart was pounding wildly as she glanced up, a scowl already in place to direct at whoever had decided to mess with her _this_ time, when she gasped.

"Oh my God! _Ned!_ "

"Hey, babe," he said with a huge grin, offering his arms, and she flung herself into them.

"Oh my God!" She pulled back to look into his face. "You—you—"

"Awesome, fabulous guy who's volunteering to lug _all this_ upstairs for you?"

"Well, yes, that." Nancy stroked his cheek. "Why?"

"Well, I have a girl who loves mysteries." He smiled. "And I _do_ have bad news. I can only stay for part of the trip. But at least I _can_ stay for part of the trip."

Nancy pouted briefly. "Like, how long?"

Ned leaned forward until his forehead was touching Nancy's. "Long enough to take advantage of that single room you have upstairs a few dozen times," he murmured.

Nancy giggled, feeling a definite shiver all the way down to her toes.

George groaned. "I say this with intense feeling: I know for a fact that you _have_ a room. Let's get our stuff upstairs and you two can have your reunion, behind closed doors."

"That sounds like a _perfect_ idea," Ned replied, and gave Nancy a long, deep kiss, intense and full of promise, before releasing her.

\--

Mick was in a foul mood that night. He'd seen the Yank greet the redhead as his girlfriend and had realized he'd been played; even so, he'd spent far too long loitering in the hotel lobby, hoping at least one of them would show up for that sightseeing offer. None had. He'd headed out—and narrowly avoided running into the group as they exited a nearby café. The Yank had had his arm around the redhead, and she was gazing up at him, so obviously in love that somehow Mick's viscera had tightened in envy. He'd gone for another drink or two, approached another few likely young women, but he'd struck out there too.

Mick heard some distant thumping and chalked it up to someone tossing luggage around, but after he'd tossed his room key onto the dresser and thumbed open his pants, he groaned as he placed it.

"Oh! Oh, _yes!_ "

The redhead, almost certainly. Across the hall right now. Just rubbing it in.

Mick shook his head and stumbled into the bathroom. A cold shower was just what he needed—but after he toweled himself off, he could _still_ hear them.

"Christ," he muttered, scrubbing a towel over his hair. "Give it a _rest._ "

He was one more outburst away from calling the front desk when he realized they _must_ have stopped. He checked his messages, idly flipping through channels as he did, and frowned. His current job had been canceled.

Well. Perfect timing, since he didn't exactly want to keep seeing the redhead and her sex machine of a boyfriend.

Ten minutes later, his phone pinged with a new message.

_I'll expect to see a screenshot of your order by noon tomorrow._ 😃

Mick frowned. _Who is this?_ he typed, then deleted it. The damned Yank had cheated anyway, but Mick definitely hadn't exchanged information with him, and he _definitely_ hadn't expected to pay up after losing their bet.

_How'd you get this number?_

His phone pinged with a message from a new number. _I'm a detective too, fuckhead. Pro tip: maybe try to tamp down your hard-on when you see girls who are barely legal._

Mick raised his eyebrows. She had just become _a lot_ more interesting. A detective?

_Also, I'm blocking you now, so don't get any ideas. Feel free to exchange sweet nothings with my boyfriend._

Mick let out his breath in a disgusted sigh.

Dammit. _Dammit._

Well. At least he'd be out of here tomorrow, on to the next case. Soon today would be a distant, hopefully brief memory.

At least until his order arrived.

\--

Nancy came out of the bathroom wearing one of Ned's Emerson t-shirts, which swallowed her whole, and dove into the bed again. Ned was on the verge of reaching for the room-service menu—technically they'd had brunch in bed, but he had definitely worked up an appetite again—when his phone pinged with an alert.

🖕🏻

Ned snickered.

"What is it?"

_Image - tap to download_

"I think he just paid up on the bet." Ned collapsed to the bed and, when Nancy turned toward him, slid his arm around her waist and pulled her to him. His shirt had slid up around her waist, and she draped a naked leg over him, nestling her cheek in the hollow of his shoulder.

"How many was he supposed to order?"

"Twenty." Ned shrugged.

"Good. Serves him right." She snuggled a little closer, and Ned stroked his thumb over the curve of her hip. "Pervert."

"Sorry."

"No, not you. Him."

"True."

The image finally loaded. Ned grinned and showed it to Nancy.

She dissolved into giggles. "He has to hand _that_ out as business cards?"

"Yes. Hypothetically."

"Hmm." She took his phone and tossed it onto the bedside table, then moved to straddle him. "While, as a feminist, I can't endorse your making a bet with another guy about picking me up..."

Ned cupped her cheek. "Not even to teach him a lesson?"

"That's just it. Will it?"

"Maybe." He returned her kiss eagerly when she leaned down to press her lips to his. "I'm more concerned about the woman in my bed right now, though. I know you're disappointed..."

"Disappointed is the _last_ thing I am." She stroked herself against him, slowly, deliberately. "I hate that you're leaving early, but you're _here_. I love you. I love you so much."

"I love you too." He caught her lips in another kiss, stroking one palm down her back. "And if it were up to me, we'd probably—" they kissed again "—just never leave this room."

"Living on room service and your dick for a few days? I could do worse." When Ned tackled her and began tickling her in retaliation, she shrieked with laughter, and soon her wriggling and struggling subsided as she wrapped herself around him again.

\--

"You sound perfect for it. Got a card? I'll have to check with the board..."

Mick dug in his pocket, distracted by the vibration in his cell phone, and his fingertips grazed a rectangle of cardstock. He handed it over with a brief flash of his winning grin, then checked his message. Ridiculous spam.

The woman who had asked for his card was gazing at Mick in shock that was rapidly becoming disgust. "Thanks for wasting my time," she snapped, and shoved the card back into his hand.

His stomach sinking, Mick checked it. He had a terrible feeling, and a part of him had known he shouldn't have ordered the cards, much less put them into his pocket for just this kind of situation.

Of course it was the wrong one.

**Fuck Goblin**

**Private Investigator**

Mick snarled. _Damned Yank. Damn him. I hope that redhead breaks his dick off_.

"'Fuck goblin,'" he snarled, rubbing his forehead. "Asshole."

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally published elsewhere (see the "about me" link in my profile). If you enjoyed it, please consider leaving feedback!


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